Gerry's Hostel - R.I.P Gerry

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llechwedd 14 Feb 2015
Mr Gerry Howkins., he of the eponymous hostel, died peacefully earlier this week.

Existing bookings are being honoured by his son.
 streapadair 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:
Truly sorry to hear that. Gerry was a legend.
Lusk 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

A comment from someones blog...

The owner Gerry is the rudest man I have ever meet, it is said when he was drinking he would mellow out in the evening but now he has stopped the drink he stays his abusive, arrogant, self. I would say stay there are your peril, if you like to have abuse thrown at you for no good reason then go for it, TGO challengers you talk to who have stay there once never want to stay again would rather walk that bit further and camp I can see why now


Damnation, another legend I'll never experience!
 Kimono 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

for those less enlightened souls, where exactly was this Fawltyean paradise to be found?
 Doug 15 Feb 2015
In reply to Kimono:

Achnashellach, see http://www.gerryshostel-achnashellach.co.uk/services.htm

Only spent a few nights there, and something like 20or 30 years ago but both the hostel & its owner certainly had character
 marsbar 15 Feb 2015
In reply to Lusk:

In my experience people who complain on the internet that someone was mean to them for no reason are often oblivious to the reason.

Dealing with the public isn't always fun.
 kwoods 15 Feb 2015
In reply to marsbar:

Gerry was in a league of his own First time I went I inadvertently commented it felt like a bothy, to which he markedly softened. We then ended up in a long chat about the hills. Second time I went he was really grumpy!
 Harry Ellis 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

Not so much a hostel as an experience. The ultimate grumpy warden. We turned up late one winter night having been blown over by 90mph winds and carried my mates rucksack down as he had done his ankle.
"We speak english here!" Was his opening line when my mate was a bit tired and mumbly.
A customer service champion, but woe betide you should you touch the fire or forget to remove your axe from your pack.
"Spikes! In there!"
RIP, hope someone suitably cantankerous takes over!
 rossh 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

Stayed there once in the mid 90s. Certainly a unique hostel that will never be forgotten by those who stayed there. Seem to remember Gerry reprimanding my friend and I for not making up our beds as soon as we arrived. I was amazed to hear Gerry was still running the hostel as to us he seemed super old even back then.
 Phil1919 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

The last time I stayed there he was late back as he was playing golf! I was the only one staying over the 3 nights, and felt that you had to work at the relationship somewhat, but it wasn't without its rewards. He had a great way of giving you the feeling he was looking over your shoulder. It was generally best to give him the idea that you didn't mind.
 fmck 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:
Sad to the fact. But agree it was the most Nuts place I have ever stayed in. The post it notes on absolutely everything and him hovering took some getting used to but he was a character once talking to. He did all the same mess with my boat while out on the hill resulting in the engine wrong way round and engine oil everywhere on his path.
 streapadair 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

He could be rubbed up the wrong way, and it maybe wasn't that hard to do so, but I found him entirely reasonable, kindly even - he once lent me an OS map so I could grab a couple of Munros I hadn't planned for.
Jim C 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:
Sad to hear that he has gone too. i hope whoever takes it on ( if they do as a hostel) that they don't change much of theoriginal fabric.

Gerry WAS grumpy( but that just served to remind me of home
 Rich W Parker 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

My favourite anecdote is the 'naked axe waving at train' one. I hope it was true.
 Paul Evans 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

We stayed there in 2012 and he was fine, the place had "character" - in a good way. RIP.

Paul
 gethin_allen 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

I'm sure this is a place that my parents stayed at about 25 years ago. My dad always goes on about the bloke after he went nuts because someone lit up a rollup inside and he started threatening people with an axe.

Fortunately the leader of their group was former special forces and manage to get the axe off him and sling it in the bushes outside.
llechwedd 15 Feb 2015
In reply to kwoods:
I'm sitting at the table in the hostel as I write. I agree about the bothy-ness of the place, even more so now that the man has gone for good.

Yes, "Gerry's" has got electric lights, a kitchen etc, but it was ( and is- for the immediate future, at least) an antidote to the 'Travelodge ' experience you get in most hostels nowadays.

There is now a silence about the place - the resident spirit- that was Gerry- has departed. That feeling is there , which is strong in some particular bothies, that the people who Lived in it have long gone, and the indifferent wind and world carry on . After all, it's just a building...
Post edited at 11:40
 Jim Braid 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

Saddened to hear that. Had many good times there. He was certainly a character and I always found him fine to deal with. He could be great company. In my times there I was often at the pub in Achnasheen with him and others and though he certainly liked a good drink I don't recognise him in the negative comments above. To me and my friends he was friendly and always interested in what we were doing on the hills. A genuine character, fondly remembered.
 Dave the Rave 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:
You're not getting maudlin there are you mate?
 Captain Solo 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

I stayed there a couple of times over 10 years ago now, don't seem to remember too much negativity just that he was a bit of a character, we always seemed to get on ok.
It was a a very unique place, things like an honesty box provisions shop are not normally included in most bunkhouses.
I do remember there were signs everywhere including one in the toilet along the lines of "No sanitary towels to be flushed down toilet or prepare yourself for the finer points of septic tank content removal".
His take on internal fireplace control safety was "I'll just piss on it if the flames get out of hand".
A true legend and institution.
llechwedd 15 Feb 2015
In reply to Dave the Rave:

> You're not getting maudlin there are you mate?

Nah, just using UKC posting as an excuse not to go on the hills. Although maybe it was something I drank in the Strathcarron Hotel last night..
Removed User 15 Feb 2015
In reply to Murko Fuzz:
There are lots of insane Gerry stories, and as my local mate Mike Birch said to me, "They're all f*ckin' true an' all."

Gerry was a character and a half. If he took a instant dislike to you it was really best to just go elsewhere. For whatever reason he liked me and I got on fine with him, and in 1995 I looked after the bunkhouse for a month while he took his "first holiday since 1972." There were a few people who came in soaked and looking to dry out for a night, timorously asking if he was in. When I told them that he was on holiday they brightened up and said "Oh, can I stay for another couple of nights then?"

Gethin_Allen: I'm surprised there wasn't a death if someone lit up a rollie inside. I've never met anyone so anti-smoking. He would chase smokers out of the garden and carpark and make them smoke up by the road, off his property! "Smoke drifts."

Gerry was not exactly normal but a bit of a sense of humour went a long way and he was easy enough to get on with if you weren't too precious. He was well known (of course he was!) and from what i gather very well liked in the local community. I had no idea he had a son. I hope the place continues to run and doesn't get a "Travelodge" makeover and the decade's worth of old climbing magazines and Hamish Brown's record collection stay there.

RIP.
Post edited at 13:01
 Dave the Rave 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

> Nah, just using UKC posting as an excuse not to go on the hills. Although maybe it was something I drank in the Strathcarron Hotel last night..

Me too. Have a wander up a mountain stream. You may see a small penguin?
 Phil1919 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

I remember the shower seemed to be an electrocution waiting to happen.
 skog 15 Feb 2015
In reply to Removed User:

Aye.

Only stayed there twice, enjoyed his banter. A proper, grumpy but friendly eccentric, used to living his own way and with no interest in changing.

I remember pulling up to park by the hostel one morning, and seeing him in his dressing gown changing the bins. The fury visibly rose in him as he prepared to tell us where to stick our car. I pretended not to notice, smiled, and asked him if it was OK to park there while we walked up Beinn Tarsuinn and Sgurr na Feartaig - as we were booked into his hostel that night. He changed back to a less vivid shade of red and rapidly returned to friendly mode; the hostel was warm and welcoming when we returned that evening.

I tried to book another time, but he decided it wouldn't be OK for us to arrive late after work on a Friday - odd, as he didn't seem to mind people just turning up in general. I suspect he was on his way to the pub and just couldn't be bothered...

A friend of a friend (no, really) was once kicked out for coming back from the pub smelling of smoke - and hadn't actually been smoking. There was no reasoning with him once he was on an anti-smoking rant!


RIP Gerry, the world is just a wee bit duller without you.
 paul-1970 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

My one experience of staying at Gerry's hostel is in line with all the stories I'd heard before staying and then after. As others have said, it's simply an experience that all hill-walkers had to endure/enjoy at some time.

I arrived walking through the garden area festooned with "no smoking anywhere" signs after climbing earlier in the day in the Coulin Forest, but unfortunately and naively with my ice axe strapped onto my rucksack. "Iron ware outside" was his instant reaction.

Cooking my dinner in the kitchen I was told to open all windows and ventilate the room well. I was told this when I arrived, when I was moving to the kitchen with food in hand and then again in mid-cook with all windows already open!

Later in the evening I was sat in front of the pleasant fire with my book when Gerry appeared in his infamous dressing gown and his bare pipe-cleaner legs visible. He told me not to touch the fire, to which, having wised up by this stage, I replied that I was quite happy to enjoy it as it was. "Good lad" was his reply and he seemed amiable for a while. Then, on further conversation, I happened to mention other hostels I knew about the people who stayed at these establishments. I was talking about the Scotpackers, etc hostels that take the buses driving tourist/travellers around. Naively I assumed that hostel talk would be of interest or he'd know other hostel owners/managers. "They're taking food out of my mouth" was his sniffy retort and back down came the shutters and the cantankerous attititude.

Further to the axe stories, I also heard a rumour/anecdote about a stay-over German lady who became his live-in lover one summer season. But then she absconded with another hosteller later that summer. So Gerry pursued them over glen and hill, complete with axe in hand. I never knew if this was true, but like all the other stories, many of which were probably exaggerated, they all became believable when you had met and 'experienced' him.

There'll never be another like him. RIP Gerry.
 Doug 15 Feb 2015
In reply to paul-1970:

"I also heard a rumour/anecdote about a stay-over German lady who became his live-in lover one summer season. But then she absconded with another hosteller later that summer. So Gerry pursued them over glen and hill, complete with axe in hand."

I've heard that story from several different people, myth or true ? I've no idea.
 sylvester 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

Great place, great man, its what travelling up to Scotland is all about. Something different , very different. Our first visit there he gave us the guided tour, rules and all. Highlight of the trip was teatime- only he was allowed to light the fire, having first put on some classical music on his record player.

We were then given the choice of candles or lights, but we couldn't have both. Funnily enough I can t remember what hills we did, but this has stuck in mind
A sad loss
 Dave Hewitt 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

Condolences to Gerry's son and other members of the family - Gerry was an interesting and complicated bloke who, as others have said, will be much missed from the Highland hill scene.

I think I stayed there twice - one time was for a couple of nights in June 1987 when I was doing my watershed walk and the place felt like a haven after quite a hard crossing over several days from the Kintail road. That visit coincided with the general election and there was a bit of political conversation. Memory is fuzzy after so long, and I can't recall any specific anecdotes, but I do have a vague memory of Gerry not being keen on Mrs Thatcher and the Tories...

There was another visit in that same period, and again I found him fine to get on with, even though I knew of his reputation. On one of the visits we discovered a shared connection with Mansfield (I was brought up near there and I think Gerry was from somewhere around there too), and when he heard that my father worked on the railways that seemed to help as well. But he could be difficult with some paying guests, as others have said - on one of these visits he took against a group from Kent for no obvious reason, and it can't have been much fun for them. There was an edge to proceedings - or a risk of an edge - that wasn't present, in my experience at least, in the similar hostel at Fersit run by the late Nancy Smith.

Sometime after my second visit I heard a story - second-hand, but via a reliable source - of someone who had been taken on to help run the place over the summer having left abruptly after a night when he woke to find Gerry prowling the room with what looked alarmingly like a knife. Nothing happened, but the would-be helper decided to make an exit the next day and do something a little less fraught with his summer. After hearing that, I never went back - and in recent years I've got out of the bunkhouse/hostel/bothy habit generally - but I sometimes felt bad about not having returned as my own experience of Gerry was OK, and I'm glad I stayed on the couple of occasions when I did. He could certainly be kindly and considerate and was very much a one-off in a time when places have become steadily more standardised and regulated and therefore less memorable.

Incidentally, does anyone here know what age he was? As has been said upthread, he always seemed to be old. He'd run the place as a hostel for upwards of 40 years, so he could well have been in his late 70s or even his 80s.

I wonder if Hamish Brown (himself now 80) will write something in memory of Gerry - he stayed there a lot for a good few years, but again seemed to stop going. A few years ago I asked Hamish if he ever still went to Gerry's and Hamish shook his head with what looked suspiciously like a shudder. I didn't feel able to ask for more detail, and was left wondering if there had been some kind of incident that led to Hamish stopping going there.
 Mal Grey 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

First met Gerry in 1989, with my mates from Pompey Poly on the first of many visits. Despite being student types, we somehow made friends, between the tellings off, probably as we were always willing to drive him to the pub, and perhaps because I was born in the same town, Mansfield, just a mile or so from his birthplace on the Rainworth Road. Initially we went to the Achnasheen Hotel, which eventually burnt down, where we played pool to "Gerry's Rules" which changed whenever the game went against him.

20+ winter trips later, one most years, we had him mostly house-trained. This was achieved by me playing the "Malcolm from Mansfield" card on booking, and always taking a polypin of decent ale, which he would have just a half or two of. It didn't mean he never moaned at us, but he genuinely seemed pleased to see us, and always spent a bit longer in the lounge to share a few tall stories over a beer, and sometimes still came down the pub.

Over the years, there are endless stories. He was a miserable old git some years, but not many, and had mellowed since our third or fourth trip, when "ME" had (rightly or wrongly) become a recognised disease amongst "yuppies". Gerry claimed to have it (and genuinely had some tough years then), but we christened it "MB" - miserable bastard. But we loved the hostel. Gerry's eccentricities were balanced by an evil sense of humour, which was slightly, and happily, warped, and a surprisingly generous nature. Not that we were always that happy to be offered some dodgy, out of date food, or strange drinks that were unrecognisable. Then there was the night when he got us drunk enough to invite them into the private side of the hostel, playing us Betsy Smith records and plying us with some really dodgy liquor. He also roped us into advising, and occasionally briefly helping, on various bizarre DIY jobs, none of which made much sense, but all of which supposedly saved him money.

The fire is the heart of the hostel, and nobody built a better one than Gerry. We were trusted, just occasionally, with lighting our own, and one year even building it ourselves with logs we were "allowed" to get from the wood store without supervision, when Gerry was feeling ill. The record collection, eccentric, warped and scratched, introduced 3 young blokes to Scottish Folk, especially Silly Wizard, which has become the music of all our Highland adventures for more than 2 decades. The common room in that hostel is one of my favourite rooms in the world, each of the 3 of us had our "own" favourite chair, where many an hour was spent listening to folk as the fire burned, the beer flowed, and the last whisky of the evening warmed our throats as the last embers glowed.

Some years, there were actually other people staying at the same time as us, despite the reputation of the place. This led to us witnessing some of the famous Gerry temper and eccentricity, but also to watching the bemused faces of his other guests, especially the French lass who witnessed pretty much everything that Gerry had to show off underneath his infamous dressing gown, as he never seemed to realise he was displaying to the world when he sat down. Or maybe he did...

Gerry charged too much for the hostel in recent years, and never moved with the times in terms of updating the hostel. That was part of the charm, though, and many a time I've visited warm and comfortable hostels and thought "I wish this was a bit more like Gerry's". We nearly fell out a few years back, when he charged us extra for our "usual room" being a family room, but only mentioned the surcharge on leaving after 4 nights. We didn't go back for 3 years, but I'm now very glad that last year we did return, and were greeted like old friends and given a "special rate", that was no doubt the same as everybody paid that winter.

So, I have some amazing memories of Gerry's. Most good, some less so, but all very strong. Its been a special place to me, and that's thanks to the character that was Gerry.

Most of all, though, I remember the laugh.

RIP Gerry, you daft, miserable old bugger, I'll miss ya. In a couple of weeks we're up in the NW once again. I hope perhaps we can return to the hostel one last time, sit in front of that famous fire, and raise a glass to you mate.

Malcolm from Mansfield.







 Mal Grey 15 Feb 2015
In reply to Dave Hewitt:

Best guess as to his age was pushing 80. We tried to work it out one year, based on a passing comment, and worked out he was probably 2 or 3 years older than my dad, who is 77 now. He was definitely a bit frail last year, and said he'd been struggling to get on with the wood chopping for the first time.

He spoke of Hamish occasionally, and spending a New Year or two with him. It seemed a fond memory, but I wouldn't be surprised if somehow the relationship has soured over something Gerry said or did.

 petestack 15 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

> Nah, just using UKC posting as an excuse not to go on the hills.

You didn't miss much... unless you count one of the windiest days I've ever been stupid enough to spend on them! (Sgurr Choinnich, Sgurr a' Chaorachain and Maoile Lunndaidh today.)

Never stayed at Gerry's myself but, having seen your post last night, was thinking about him and the place as I parked across the road and cycled past today.
llechwedd 16 Feb 2015
In reply to Dave Hewitt:


> Incidentally, does anyone here know what age he was? As has been said upthread, he always seemed to be old. He'd run the place as a hostel for upwards of 40 years, so he could well have been in his late 70s or even his 80s.

I heard he was 76

> I wonder if Hamish Brown (himself now 80) will write something in memory of Gerry - he stayed there a lot for a good few years, but again seemed to stop going. A few years ago I asked Hamish if he ever still went to Gerry's and Hamish shook his head with what looked suspiciously like a shudder. I didn't feel able to ask for more detail, and was left wondering if there had been some kind of incident that led to Hamish stopping going there.

Funnily enough I've asked the same question - to both parties.
Gerry: "You've got to remember he's not a young man, ...getting on a bit"
Hamish: ( a stare into the distance, a clearing of the throat, a deft change of subject in reply)

Maybe it was no more than Hamish tired of reminiscences. He seemed similarly reticent talking about munros when I chatted to him, preferring to animatedly discuss his fascination with Morocco.

Gerry did describe Martin Moran, when he called in on his winter munro round, as 'all done in, and shaking like a leaf'. I mention this not to 'diss' M.M., but as an example of the stuff that Gerry saw over his long years running the place.

Rigid Raider 16 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

Funny isn't it how, no matter how rude and insulting people are, one still seems to hold them in affection? This must be the only reason why I'm still married.
 DaveHK 16 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

I only stayed there once. I'd been warned about not tampering with the fire but not the ice axe thing and got a total bollocking. I'd also said when I booked that we might stay one or 2 nights depending on conditions. When we arrived we were given the choice of paying for 2 nights as we had a 'verbal contract' or going elsewhere. It being late and us being wet and tired we paid up and stayed the 2 nights.

I gave him a lift from the station back to the hostel last March and he was quite affable but then he did say he had been in the pub in Dingwall for most of the afternoon.

A character.
 Mal Grey 16 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

Whisky by the fire

http://s603.photobucket.com/user/malgrey/media/Scotland%20Winter%202014/win...


I can't see how the hostel could continue now, but if it does, in some form, I hope that room remains pretty much unchanged. The mismatched chairs, strange ornaments, weird signs, wonky record player, piles of 40 year old climbing mags, the water tank that made worrying burbling noises, and even the double layered curtains (some duvet covers) all made the place special.

http://s603.photobucket.com/user/malgrey/media/Scotland%20Winter%202014/win...

 Sean Kelly 16 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:
Sad to hear about this post. He was certainly some character. I stayed there for 3 days last summer when completing the Munros, and there was nobody in the hostel the first 2 nights, so we conversed a lot. This was after he locked me out....for arriving 5 minutes early. Then again locked out because I let the door slam. And as for my suggesting that perhaps I set and light the fire...! But after this poor start we got on like a house on fire. I think that he was really lonely in his old age and the hostel was his link with the rest of the world. Many are described as a legend but he really was.
RIP Gerry.
Post edited at 22:02
 steev 16 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

Stayed there a few times and enjoyed each time. Very sad to hear of Gerry's passing.
 JohnnyW 17 Feb 2015
In reply to steev:

> Stayed there a few times and enjoyed each time. Very sad to hear of Gerry's passing.

Yep, me too
 Jim Braid 18 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

The funeral notice is in today's Press & Journal. Funeral will take place on Monday 23 February at 1.30pm. Burial is to take place in his own grounds at Gerry's hostel (thought that would raise a wry smile) and then to the Golf Club, Lochcarron for refreshments and a time of remembrance. I don't know if he had planned the arrangements himself but they seem typical of Gerry: idiosyncratic, slight unusual and with a wee touch of style.
llechwedd 18 Feb 2015
In reply to Jim Braid:

> I don't know if he had planned the arrangements himself but they seem typical of Gerry: idiosyncratic, slight unusual and with a wee touch of style.

Just so. I'd have thought cremation was a non starter, since he didn't trust anyone but himself to get a fire going.
Jim C 18 Feb 2015
In reply to Jim Braid:
> (In reply to llechwedd)
>
......Burial is to take place in his own grounds at Gerry's hostel..

He can keep an eye on the place, and us, from the grounds.
 Iain Thow 18 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

RIP Gerry,
As described above, one of the great hill characters. Last time I saw him he was standing in a bog in his underpants at 3am shouting "Give me back my f*****g trousers!" On the way back from a prolonged post-hill session in the late lamented Achnasheen Hotel we had stopped for a pee and he had taken off said garments. The driver decided to run off with them and a chase round the bog and a wrestling match ensued. Gerry won despite his plasteredness.
 Fat Bumbly2 18 Feb 2015

Too much character for my taste, I stopped going about 30 years ago. All the same a total legend and a complete antidote to the more plastic hostels of today.

Amazed to hear of his age - he seemed ancient when I last stayed there, yet he was much younger than I am now. The eyes of youth and ravages of bevvy I suppose.
Post edited at 20:16
 abbeywall 18 Feb 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

Enjoying this thread. Stayed there twice 2010 ish as a last resort after avoiding the place for years. It was almost disappointingly fine. A great night in front of the fire with various Gerry diehards. Anyway I was prepared for the full fire lighting ceremony, dressing gown, classical music blaring out. The second time some students had arrived earlier soaking wet when Gerry was on the golf course and said they would get the fire going. I suggested that probably wasn't a good idea. I did get some sort of ticking off in the kitchen which was almost impossible to avoid. But it was a bit random on what to expect including the odd extra charges that came from nowhere or were not mentioned until you were committed, eg the luggage fee for leaving a bag in the hostel and sometime the parking fee There was always the worry that staying there might end badly. End of a hosteling era.
 gilliesp 02 Mar 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

Just read this. Saddened. The passing of a legend. He cracked open the Greenmantle (a long time ago) when I commented favourably on his choice of classical music, which was blaring out throughout the house. And he had a son...Wonderful! The genes continue!
 gilliesp 02 Mar 2015
In reply to Mal Grey:

Nice one, Malcolm from Mansfield.
dt27348 04 Mar 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

Gerry had wished to be buried in the grounds of the hostel but this has been denied due to the proximity of nearby water source. No need to worry about his ghost prowling around the bothy then
Dave
 john ryden 07 Apr 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

Called at the pub at Achnasheen last spring only to find it had burnt down years before, now I wish I'd swung off down to Gerry's for a last grump!
Happy days over the years, times move on.
Liz Dyer 09 Apr 2015
In reply to llechwedd:

I first met Gerry Howkins 50 years ago on the day I also met his friend Dave Goulder whom I later married. You needed to know Gerry for a while to realize he was bipolar and know his background to guess what may have triggered or exacerbated that condition. So here’s a few nuggets of information that may answer folks’ questions.

a) Gerry was born in 1938 and would have been 77 on 18th of this month (April).

b) He began his working life down the pit, which explains his later feelings re Mrs T. At 16 he suffered an accident when his jaw was smashed by an errant coal tub, and lost many of his lower teeth. Whether he also suffered head injury I do not know.

c) He was called up in 1956 (ish) for National Service in the RAF and was posted to Christmas Island, where he spent ten months during nuclear tests. Apart from any effects of radiation (denied by the MoD) the men were also subjected to the “Flit Flight”, a light aircraft that sprayed the tented camp and everyone in it with DDT on a daily basis. God knows what damage all that did.

I last saw Gerry in 1981, after which life took me far from the hills and many years as a carer, unable to travel. He was difficult, and often scary, but could show great kindness to a friend in need. I understand he had a heart attack, and am glad he went quickly and at home rather than linger in a hospital bed far from the hills.
 Jim Braid 09 Apr 2015
In reply to Liz Dyer:
" I first met Gerry Howkins 50 years ago on the day I also met his friend Dave Goulder"

In the field of the willows?

I think our paths crossed at Hogmanay 1965 at Glen Doll Youth Hostel (Danny and Nancy Smith) seeing in the new year.
 Elevator 09 Apr 2015
In reply to Liz Dyer:
> ...on the day I also met his friend Dave Goulder whom I later married.

Hi Liz,
Well, that brings back some memories... My first contact with the Scottish hills as a Newcastle University student in the late 1960s was through staying in the 'bunkhouse' at Glen Cottage in Torridon each Easter break... Mostly, as far as I can recall, you and Dave were away on tour somewhere and the place was being caretaken by a selection of rather 'interesting' temporary residents, but the first couple of times I think you were both around...

Those trips north and the associated ascents of the surrounding Torridon hills, kindled a deep love for the North-West that endures to this day - many thanks...
Liz Dyer 10 Apr 2015
In reply to Jim Braid:

Indeed they did Jim. Dave and I had only recently met at that point. We met again by chance the following spring. Danny was best man at our wedding.
In reply to Liz Dyer:
Hi Liz
I was a Glen Cottage regular between 1971 and 1973. Happy memories -great music and song. Would agree with your comments about Gerry who I first met in the early 70's. Jack Foley tells me you're still singing- good to hear that. I'm now based mainly in Gairloch. Still involved with the Desperadoes - whom you may remember.
Best wishes to you.
Ian
Liz Dyer 10 Apr 2015
In reply to Elevator:

The Inverness Folk Festival was at Easter so we tended to be away for a few nights around then. We always had someone trained up to run the place when we were away. Someone who could handle a rescue call-out and take the screen readings for the Met Office. I expect you met Conrad Jelinek who was with us for a year and later sailed round the world with Tristram Jones, and Mike Hughes who became warden of the reserves on the Gower. I have a huge collection of photos, and all the Glen Cottage registers. Perhaps I should start putting some pics on Facebook.

Liz Dyer 10 Apr 2015
In reply to The Watch of Barrisdale:

I'm sure Id know you if I saw you, Ian. I've been in the Peak District since 1992, currently in Ashbourne. I started singing again a few years ago after decades away from the folk scene and am a regular at the Derby club. The knees are not up to much walking though, sadly.
In reply to Liz Dyer:

I remember one August night when you and Dave were away at the Edinburgh festival. Diane Goodwin was in charge. There was a torrential downpour and the waterpipe up the hillside(Liathach) got displaced. My pal Chris and I - with Diane as tprchbearer - headed up the burn at some unearthly hour to restore it.
PS I will NEVER forget the Eva Kolski "rescues"!!
 Inti 14 Apr 2015
In reply to Liz Dyer:
Iain and myself were staying with Gerry on the week he died. We'd been regular visitors over the past couple of years and it became our favourite place to stay when up that way. We have only fond memories and never experienced any of the negative stuff others seemed to have. That's not to say we didn't get a telling off for cooking in the wrong way or leaving lights or heaters on. But we never took this badly, just seeing it as a man who liked things done a certain way. We often shared cheese and wine (we both had a taste for a big red) by the fire, with obligatory musical accompaniment. I even got the odd hug!

The last time we stayed we arrived out of the blue, half expecting to be turned away, but were welcomed in. For the first time Iain was allowed to saw some logs and even build the fire, something we thought was quite significant and progress from just being allowed to poke it secretly when he was out of the room (he always knew you'd done it tho). He joined us that night briefly in front of the fire and all seemed normal. Next day he came to me saying he had a pain in his chest but he put this down to pulling a muscle lifting some big logs and I didn't think much of it. He said he was going to have a lie down and I left him to it. Next day we headed out, surprised he didn't leave us a key but not otherwise concerned. Didn't see him that evening either but again we didn't think too much of it, assuming he just wanted to be on his own. The next day we were due to leave and there was still no sign of him, and that's when we began to worry - there's no way he wouldn't have popped out to say bye and to get our payment for the room! Anyway, long story short, he had gone to bed and seemingly died in his sleep. We were (and still are) both shocked by his passing as he seemed kind of indestructible and he was never far from our thoughts. Okay, he was a bit grumpy, yes, but kindhearted too. We shared a lot of experiences of what he called burn-out and I called depression and seemed to bond over our shared difficulties with the world. I didn't know he had bipolar but it makes total sense from what I knew of him.

Anyway, we are both very sad at his passing, but are also grateful that it happened in his place and that it was peaceful. I'm also glad we were there when it happened, that he had been happy to see us and we were able to alert people that something was wrong. I also hope that if the place continues it retains the idiosyncratic character, although it will never be the same without the real character who lived (and ruled) there.

Sharron
Post edited at 17:58
Liz Dyer 24 Apr 2015
In reply to Inti:

Thank you so much Sharron, for letting me know how it happened. And such an ordeal for you too. I doubt if Gerry was ever diagnosed as bipolar, but it seemed obvious to me from way back. The failure of his marriage made things worse. It broke his heart, but she was so terribly young.

Lest we go too far off-topic I can be found on FaceBook as Liz Dyer, if anyone wants to make contact. Avatar of white-haired old lady grinning. (Nice teeth, shame about the wrinkles!) … Liz

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